Category Archives: Daughter

Two nights ago my daughter wanted to talk. Said she felt sad. She’s sad her dad isn’t around every day and night. And I’m sad for her too. Last night, she wanted to talk again. Tears this time. Her dad was around for a couple of hours and then he left. She wished he could stay longer. I’m sad too – for all of us.

Tonight she wanted to talk again. Full blown tears. She’s worried about when we move, she won’t have any friends, she misses her dad, she doesn’t want me to get remarried (even though I’m not dating anyone openly or secretly), and she thinks that I’ll spend more time worrying about her brother than her.

This is harder on her little brain than I realized. Her brain is on overload.

I reassured her that her dad and I will handle the adult stuff and she doesn’t have to worry. I asked her to trust us and we’ll keep her involved and make the best decisions for her and her brother. I could see the weight lifting off of her little shoulders and the anxiety softening from her big blue watery eyes.

This is hard. If I thought there was a chance in hell that he would be a better partner for me, I’d let him back in the door so that this burden wasn’t part of my kids’ lives. All I know for sure is that I don’t hate my parents for getting divorced. I love them the same. And I’m grateful for the new wonderful people that they each ended up marrying. I know my daughter can’t see that now, but she will. I know she will be okay.

She asked me if I cry when she goes to bed. Oh, if she only knew. I just said that I did sometimes. She’s only nine, but she has such an old soul.

My little girl – I want to shield her from everything, but if I do, then she won’t learn from it. She won’t grow from it. I know she has to learn to deal with change and feelings – the good ones and the bad ones. I will help her through it the best I know how.

Today I learned that this new normal is harder on my children than I realized, and it makes me so very sad that it’s not all about me. It would be so much easier if it was.

I had an entire other post written earlier, and I hadn’t published it yet, and then I showered. Yes, I showered, and the water rose up over my feet and my arch nemesis was back – a clogged drain (gag).

And so this is similar to my experience with mowing lawns in the last 10 years. I just don’t. Except in the last seven months, I’ve been forced to fight back my gag reflex and unclog that shit.

My daughter and I have longish thick brown hair. I’m half Italian. So she’s at least a quarter Italian. Clogged drains are a common occurrence in this household.

Oh my god it makes me gag. I hate it so much.

To top it all off, neither of us girls have had our hair trimmed in six months, so its longer than usual. And we’ve been hair-washing more than usual because of the damn Head Bugs Epidemic 2.0 (finally thank you baby Jesus that’s over).

Anyhow, in the past, when there’s a first sign of a clog, this is what would normally happen:

I would almost cry because I HATE knowing that the water covering my feet in the shower is because of clogged hair (So effing gross – yes, I know it’s my hair but still soooo gross)

I would tell my now-almost-ex-husband that the drain is clogged

I would take a few more days of showers (repeat as needed) silently cursing my now-almost-ex-husband for not immediately unclogging the drain

I would nag my now-almost-ex-husband to PLEASE unclog the drain (repeat as needed)

Almost-ex-husband would unclog the drain in seconds, and dump some Drano down that biotch

My next shower would be heaven with no water covering my feet

Tonight was the first night I noticed the drain was clogging. That’s a lie, I noticed it yesterday and hoped it would go away, but it didn’t. When I got out of the shower tonight, I got dressed and immediately unclogged that drain (gagging the entire time) and dumped the Drano.

How easy was that? Now why haven’t I just been doing that all along? It would have saved me steps 2 – 6 above.

From now on, I rely on me (unless my upper body strength is absolutely no match, and then I will suck it up and ask for help). I better start lifting weights.

Today I learned that I can rely on me so much faster than anyone else. I can handle almost anything, even if I’m gagging (as long as there’s no blood, I don’t do blood).

Today I learned that my daughter likes hanging out with me! Her brother was out with their dad. I picked her up from school and the first thing she said was “What do you want to do with me?”

Huh?

When I’m working I don’t hang out with my kids much. I see them, but I don’t usually have time to play. We spend time together, but not quality time. It’s more like rush rush out the door in the morning, and then in the afternoon it’s pick-up from school, hurry up to get dinner, maybe spend some TV together, but then it’s quickly bath and bed time. And on the weekends, that’s when I catch up on housework and catch my breath from the rat race of the week.

Today, she wanted quality time with mom. Okay then. So we played a little game of Scrabble. I beat her, but she didn’t care. Her mom played a game with her and that’s all she wanted. It was fun. I need to actually spend more play time with my kids. They are cool little humans.

I have been combing through my daughter’s hair for exactly one month now since discovering Head Bug Epidemic 2.0. As of tonight’s combing session, I’m confident that she is bug and nit-free. I was fairly sure all was fine about a week ago, but those creepy little bugs (and the mess they leave behind) instill the utmost paranoia and anxiety in me. So I overdue the number of weeks of combing.

They seriously make me crazy and make me cry. I’m pretty sure I cried the first full week. The actual bug itself is creepy, but I don’t usually cry over bugs alone. It is the amount of work it takes with combing and preventing re-infestation that really makes me cry.

This time I discovered a new natural oil, Neem oil. It repels them AND it kills them. It is a such a stinky oil, but I swear it works. I read about it online and ordered some on Amazon. Peace of mind is everything. The Neem oil really helped with that – and my gosh the smell alone was a reminder that it was working to repel anything that may want to live on our heads. It really does smell awful.

I could go into the whole story about Head Bug Epidemic 2.0, but I really just want to leave it in the past right now. I do have some tips for dealing with it that I’ll share in a later post. For now, I just want to give my daughter big hugs and continue to repel any unwanted head visitors going forward.

What’s my biggest lesson of the day (and the entire month)? Use Neem oil regularly to keep that crap away from our hair. We had some stinky hair, but it sure was soft! I will always keep a stash of that oil in our house.

About 2 years (or more maybe) ago my mom bought my daughter this make-it-yourself decorative stepping stone. My daughter has asked me to make this thing a million and one times since she got it. It has been collecting dust in the back sun room for entirely too long. Each spring, when I clean out the sun room, she is hopeful that I’ll help her with it. It’s a cement mixture that you pour into a mold and then decorate with multi-colored glass pieces. It takes about 48 hours to dry. Each time she has asked, I read the directions and then I say it will take too long, or it’s too messy, or the weather isn’t right outside, or I’m tired.

Today she asked, staring at me with hopeful but doubtful eyes. I had no good reason not to help her make the stepping stone. In fact, once we got started, it was really fun. Her brother went down for a nap and so it was just her and me decorating the cement mold and chatting. She even told me she really likes to do crafty things with me.

I was happy and sad all at the same time. She doesn’t need much, just a little bit of quality mama time. Today I learned that I need to spend more quality time with her. I’ve been a “working” mom for so long that I never realized how much time I haven’t spent with her. Eating dinner together or sitting in the living room on our devices does not count. When she looks back at her childhood, I want her to remember moments like today with me and not just me nagging her to put away her clothes.